Bernard O'Shea: Why I'm making my New Year's Resolutions in February

Setting my goals in February as opposed to when I usually did and failed possibly keeps my brain happy. My wife, however, still thinks I just forgot

Bernard O'Shea: 'I'm not setting any weight loss targets, something I've always done before.' Picture: Moya Nolan

"I wouldn't tell anyone that, My wife said sternly as I begrudgingly emptied the dishwasher. "It just sounds lazy and that you forgot." I had revealed to her that I had initially planned to announce my new year's resolutions six weeks into the new year in February. "I know you too well, Bernard. You just couldn't be arsed to do whatever idiotic plan you had conjured up in your head. Now you are backtracking." Her initial evaluation of my resolution hypothesis, to a certain extent, is true, but not this year.

Every year I have visions of myself shedding the pounds and looking like a Mark and Spencer middle-aged man model as I cycle around Longford in wafting linen (Center Parcs, to be exact). Every year I plan to gorge my underdeveloped brain in the Russian classics and to proudly crowbar quotes from Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Bulgakov into a conversation and then be able to back it with the safety net of actually having read them. Not to mention eventually finishing James Joyce's Ulysses. Oh, and learn the accordion.

Along with exercising my body and brain, my resolutions always contain a splurge in plastic container purchasing. By this time every year, I'm looking at Aannatto-berry-stained Tupperware and smelling pre-papered meals that I have shoved into the freezer. Trying to remember what I made way back on "Jan 2nd" when I was flushed in the throws of resolution excitement. Whatever it is, it doesn't smell too good now.

So this year, I decided to wait. I spent the last month walking and swimming for about an hour a day. Last year I had planned to lose four stone by May. It didn't happen. I had also bought a plethora of hard-backed classic novels which, as you might have guessed, I have yet to read. The accordion is still in its box.

There is a dual method to my madness. Financial and fevers. We all know someone who, in January, buys a treadmill or a rowing machine and has to tell everyone, "I'm going to get up at 5:00 a.m every morning and exercise for two hours straight" Then they end up trying to sheepishly sell it online and lose their arse on it. Yes? Well, that person is me. So this year, I waited to see if, by February, I was confident enough to buy a set of dumbbells and a bench. I wasn't. I also get what I internally label "The fever".

Last year I caught (to name a few) yoga fever, couch-to-5k madness, and make-your-own-pizza dough fever. I get washed up in the excitement of anything trending and go head-first into it. After the initial phase of excitement, I get bored. I now use my yoga mat as a doorstop, the expensive runners as glorified indoor slippers and ring dominos. So the plan this year was to wait and see. Read the state of play in February, and so here I am. My resolution looks a lot different than my initial thoughts back in January.

Firstly I'm not setting any weight loss targets, something I've always done before. I'm just going to eat one solid meal a day. Also, I'm not going to exercise and pump iron, thinking I'm going to be ripped for the summer. Instead, I've decided to move more simply. Dare I say it, but I might be maturing. Or worse still, getting old. I know my dreams are just that, dreams. But I'm not screaming at the Irish overcast sky and screaming, "My youth, where have you gone" I'm just physiologically coming to terms with the rain and my bad knees.

I feel we are constantly bombarded with "setting goals" as an essential aspect of life. When we set a goal, our brains might focus on achieving our dreams, but life gets in the way. So by just relaxing and tricking myself into thinking I have some form of magical hindsight, I can stave off disappointment and, ultimately, failure.

When I dug deeper into my theory, a part of the brain called the "basal ganglia" kept appearing. It helps to sustain our motivation and drive towards goals. In contrast, another part of the brain called the "Insula" helps to regulate our emotional response to goal-related events. When we experience setbacks, the insula sends signals to the brain that increase feelings of frustration or disappointment. On the other hand, when we experience success, the insula sends signals reinforcing our motivation and drive. Setting my goals in February as opposed to when I usually did and failed possibly keeps these two parts of the brain on good terms with each other. My wife, however, still thinks I just forgot!